Back Mountain Invader (Illustration available!)
“Ah, aaaah…♥”
“Mm… this should be enough to fix you up and knock you up, right?”
“Y-yes, yesss… pregnancy, pregnannncy… I’ll get pregnannnt…♥”
Is it the shock of seeing a new Eleonora, not the usual lewd one?
When I come to my senses, Eleonora lies at my feet, her lower belly bulging slightly like an early-term pregnant woman from all my creampies. Her pupils sport heart patterns as she spreads her legs in a grotesque frog pose, my semen leaking from between her thighs.
Not only that—her face, belly, and hair are coated in cum, and her asshole gapes obscenely, spilling more.
Apparently, she bore the brunt of my volcanic eruption of lust alone, meeting a glorious end(?) befitting the sow knight captain who worships me and my cock.
“Still, as expected of Eleonora. If it were that white pig over there, she’d pass out after three loads in her pussy, but this sloppy cunt held up way better than expected—nice.”
“Heeeh… M-Masterrr… I’m so glad… you’re satisfied… Your cum dump, breeding… sow Eleonora’s body served its purpose…♥”
She twitches, convulsing lightly like a minor spasm, and her massive pudding-like tits jiggle in unison, flinging the cum coating them onto the floor.
“O-ohhh…♥”
Spluuurt, spuuuurt—!
At the same time, her back arches dramatically, and semen gushes from her pussy and asshole like she’s shitting it out.
“Haa… haa… I-I came… showing Master… shitting again… shitting your cum out my asshole… I came showing you…♥”
“Even your final performance is top-tier, Captain. The best sow who trusts my cock more than anyone and knows how to get me hard.”
“Hngh… To repay Master’s favor, I’ll strive even harder… to become a sow who revels in filthier, lewder acts…”
And with that, she flops down like Christia, passing out on the spot. She was already spent, and this last orgasm drained what little consciousness she had left.
“Well… she’s smiling in her sleep like she loved it, so no guilt here.”
Maybe I’ve turned into Eleonora after fucking her so much?
As this pointless thought crosses my mind, the SD Character parasitizing my head cheers right on!.
Right! This is pure love training or whatever!! 😍
“Is that the right term? Anyway, not the time.”
Where ya going? 🧐
The SD Character looks puzzled as I brush off my pants and stand. She probably imagined me sticking around to torment Eleonora all day since there’s no special schedule—but too bad, something just came up.
“Gotta find Dungchi.”
The dog? Why the dog… Oh!
I don’t elaborate, but she recalls the commotion Eleonora caused earlier too, nodding like can’t be helped! and glancing at Eleonora sprawled messily behind me.
“Leaving her like that.”
Why? She’d love being left like that—high-level neglect play calcu—
“Can’t let my cum get on my own body.”
…
Normally, I’d consider the neglect play she mentioned—Eleonora would welcome it—and move her somewhere comfy. But seeing her pathetic state, pure white and yellowish cum coating her, even bubbles forming at her nostrils… that sealed her neglect fate.
Wow! Total trash! Fucking her like a dog then tossing her ’cause she’s dirty—real trash! Love it, haaah!! 😍💦
“…?”
What’s with the haaah at the end?
I shove the SD Character—face flushed, no longer hiding her depraved grin—to the edge of my vision and head straight out of the main pigsty toward the mountain behind it.
Huh? You know where it is? 🤔
“Nah, but I know likely spots for beasts.”
Likely spots for beasts?
The SD Character tilts her head, pondering. Having peeked into my mind and seen my life from childhood to now,
she realizes I know zilch about hunting and finds it odd.
“Y’know, the goblin cave from when I exposed Eleonora outdoors…”
Oh! Oh! That cave! But… will it work? Would dog breeds use a cave smelling like others…?
“Dunno, checking anyway—no high hopes. What I’m really after is something else.”
?
The small stream flowing from near that cave, past our farm.
Wild beasts prioritize survival spots for dens—hidden from predators, easy prey access—but above all, water sources they can’t replace with food.
So Dungchi and Urga’s wolves likely left traces near the stream, even if not the cave. Time to check and track.
But Breeder’s no pro hunter—how’ll you spot traces? 🧐
“Dunno, there’s gotta be signs. Like boar hairs on that thornbush—or luck out and spot Dungchi or the wolf.”
I once saw a TV doc on African savanna beasts.
Impala and zebra herds risking crocs ahead, lions behind, to drink.
Hard to imagine farm guard Dungchi hunting, but who knows? Maybe he’s ambushing for his bitch somewhere.
This rugged terrain’s perfect for ambushes near scarce water—behind rocks or grass, striking thirsty beasts. Not easy, but doable.
If it’s their hunting ground, it’s also their water spot—they’d leave traces drinking here. My job: follow the stream, hunt for disturbed earth or tracks.
I’m all for fucking, no plans to yell “no mating for dogs!”—but pups on the farm? No one’d complain.
Plus, rats running wild without Dungchi pisses me off.
That’s the real reason! Dumping your duties on others! 😂
“Dungchi’s the farm dog I brought for that. Love-blinded or not, he should guard his spot… hm?”
What?
“Something over there.”
Changing subject? Won’t work on me… Huh, for real? 😲
Early autumn still cloaks the hills in lush green under the sun, so I push aside obstructing branches and follow the stream.
“Up here’s the goblin cave, though?”
Did another small gate open? Tension spikes at the thought of goblins—my heart pounds.
Splash, splash.
Something’s scooping or splashing water with paws or hands.
Not visible yet, but assuming intelligence, I stifle my breath, grip a blocking branch, and peek through.
And,
“Huh?”
I lose my words at the elf suddenly before my eyes.